


your own two feet

by valety



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Codependency, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, POV Second Person, Spoilers - Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5589691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valety/pseuds/valety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chara cannot walk, Asriel helps them.</p><p>Five times Asriel has carried Chara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your own two feet

**Author's Note:**

> warning for the nastiness with the buttercups (suicide/suicidal ideation, illness, etc.) and codependency. this probably shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone reading a chara fic, but still, be careful if that bothers you
> 
> anyways! I wanted to write a fic about bridal carries and this happened instead. sorry

**I.**

"How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad," comes Asriel's professional diagnosis. "It looks all swollen."

You're sitting on the rocks at the edge of the garbage dump in Waterfall, your bare foot resting on Asriel's lap as he pokes at it with his big, fuzzy paws and pretends to know what he's doing. The dumb thing hurts like hell, all because you'd slipped and twisted it on some stupid rocks that were _supposed_ to have been dry.

"You shouldn't have been running," Asriel admonishes.

"The rocks were only wet because _you'd_ dripped all over them," you retort. "Anyway, now what?"

"Um...I'm not sure."

"I'll have to cut it off, I guess," you say, wiggling your toes. "Before it rots and I lose the whole leg. I saw that happen to a guy once."

"You did not," Asriel says, looking disgusted. "And no cutting! Mom should be able to fix it. She's great at healing. We just need to get you home first."

"And how are we gonna do that?" you demand. You'd already tried standing up and hadn't been able to keep your weight on the damn thing for longer than a second or two. "Should I sprout some wings and learn to fly?"

"Don't be silly," Asriel chastises, gingerly removing your foot from his lap and setting it on the ground. "I'll carry you."

You're tugging on your shoe now, doing so with an unusual amount of care so as not to jostle your ankle too much. You can't help but snort at his suggestion. " _Carry_ me?" you repeat. "Are you serious?"

Asriel frowns. "Of course I am," he says, looking offended. "Why wouldn't I be?"

You give Asriel a once-over. "You're _tiny._ "

It's not like being tiny was necessarily a _bad_ thing. Asriel's height could really come in handy sometimes, like when you wanted to use his head as a chin rest or hug him in your sleep like a pillow. It'd be a little tricky to do either one of those things if he were any bigger, and _then_ where would you be? Plus, it made him even cuter, as though he were a pocket-sized bunny-goat. But none of those things really screamed 'strength' at you.

Asriel looks more offended than ever now, puffing out his chest and saying, "I'll have you know that I'm a _boss_ monster. That means I'm actually really strong, even if I don't look like it."

" _Sure,_ Asriel," you say, rolling your eyes. You finish lacing up your boot and try to stand again, careful to place more weight on one foot than the other. So far, so good. But then you take an experimental step forward, and with a hiss of pain, you start to fall. 

Something catches you before hit the rocks, and before you know what's happening, an arm is being slipped behind your knees while another is being curled around your shoulders. It happens so suddenly that you can't cry out, and before you know it, you're being lifted into Asriel's tiny little baby arms.

"Holy shit," you say.

Asriel grins down at you.

"See?" he says, looking proud. "I'm strong!"

And you have to give him credit, he really doesn't seem to be struggling even a little bit right now, despite how awkward it must be, what with you being so much taller than him. It's actually making you a little bit angry.

"Fine," you say at last. "I guess that's a _little_ bit impressive. But you can put me down now. There's no way you can carry me all the way home."

But Asriel is already walking.

"I _said_ you can put me down!"

"I know," he says, and the smile he gives you is so wide that you can see his little fangs poking out from under his lip and _fuck_ are those adorable. When did you start thinking fangs were cute? What the fuck. "But you can't walk, and I'm pretty sure you're not _actually a_ bout to grow wings, so..."

"I'm not letting you _carry_ me the rest of the way!" you shout, and you begin to squirm, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. But you don't really struggle all that hard, and your ankle  _is_ pretty sore, so when he tightens his grip around you, maybe that's enough to convince you to give up and let yourself relax against his chest.

"It'll be fine," Asriel says in a soothing voice. "We just need to get to the River Person. They can take us home." 

A part of you kind of wants to scream right now, and you can't quite tell if it's from anger or frustration or _what,_ only that you feel as though your chest may burst. Meanwhile, Asriel just looks smug, as though a part of him is _glad_ you're hurt, just so he can show off in front of you. It makes you want to pinch him.

Still, you let him carry you through the strange and glimmering place that is Waterfall, past the streams of thick, dark water and through the fields of whispering flowers. All around you, clusters of polished stones shine like starlight embedded in the wall. Asriel hums softly to himself the entire time - a song you do not know, but one that's kind of soothing all the same, like a lullaby you'd heard once long ago but have since forgotten.

Privately, you swear that you will never, ever let him do this to you again. But for now, maybe, it's okay.

You rest your head against his shoulder, pointedly ignoring all the funny things he's doing to you right now. 

Your heart does backflips all the way home.

 

**II.**

You'd promised yourself that you'd never, ever let Asriel carry you again, but it turns out that you're not very good at keeping promises. 

You're not very good at a lot of things. 

One of those things is dying.

Killing yourself is taking a hell of a lot longer than you'd hoped. Asgore had gotten so sick so quickly that you'd thought it'd take a week or so at most, but for some unknown reason, your body seems to cling to life. Despite how eagerly you swallow poison, despite how badly you abuse it, it refuses to give up. All the more reason for you to hate it. 

You can't sleep, too exhausted from being still alive, and so you lie awake, Asriel beside you. At this point, he's outright refusing to sleep in his own bed anymore. You'd shown no signs of protest the first time he'd crawled in along beside you, and so Toriel and Asgore had allowed it. 

You're no stranger to feeling disgusting, but lately, you've been feeling even more so than usual. Especially now, with Asriel curled against you in his sleep like a puppy. A soft, fluffy white puppy, made of all things good and pure, all things in need of protection. 

You want to touch him. You want to feel his fur, maybe press a kiss against his forehead, but your hands are covered in blisters and bandages and your mouth is a rotten, bleeding thing. It doesn't feel as though your touch would count. You think you'd only hurt him.

You touch him anyway, because above anything else, you're selfish. You always have been. 

You place your hand on Asriel's head and gently stroke it, trying not to picture poison seeping into him through the palm of your hand. 

His eyelids flutter and he yawns. His eyes are red when he opens them. They're always red these days. 

"Chara," Asriel says in that small, sleepy voice of his. "Are you okay? Do you need something?"

You need a lot of things right now and you can ask for none of them. You can't ask him to kill you faster, you can't ask him to end your pain, you can't ask him to let you cut him open and crawl inside his chest and hide inside of him forever. 

"I want to go outside," you say instead. "Can you take me to the garden?" 

Asriel bites his lip, looking worried. "Why?" he asks after a moment. 

"I haven't been outside in ages. Your parents won't let me out of bed." 

"It's kind of late, though."

"It'll just be for a few minutes. I miss the flowers." 

You can practically see the gears turning in his head. On the one hand, he thinks they're probably right, that you should stay in bed and rest and get well. On the other hand, he agreed to help you die, so what right does he have to refuse you this one small favour? The worst it could do is make you sicker, make you die even faster, and that's what you _want,_ isn't it?

Guilt gnaws at you from the inside out. How dare you be the one to make him contemplate such things? 

Eventually, Asriel nods. He slides off the bed and scoops you into his arms, blankets and all, and you wrap your arms around his neck, hooking your legs around his waist and clinging like a child. He places his hand behind your head, threading his fingers through your hair and gently stroking, and you sigh and let yourself go limp. 

He does it all so easily that you almost want to laugh. You'd worried once before about whether or not Asriel would be strong enough to carry you, but now you know he _is_ strong. He's stronger than you'll ever be, and you are weak and wasting and depending on him far more than is probably fair. But maybe when you die, you'll finally become something useful. Maybe when you die, you'll finally be able to help him in return. 

Asriel holds you close as he slips out of the bedroom and down the silent corridor. Closer than is probably necessary, but you don't mind. If only he could hold you even closer and let you meld against him. Then you wouldn't need the buttercups and you could always be in his arms. 

"I'm sorry," you say abruptly. 

"For what?" he asks. He turns another corner, facing yet another empty hallway.

"For everything. For making you do this." 

"You're not _making_ me do anything," Asriel retorts. "I _chose_ this." 

You can't bring yourself to answer him. You don't quite believe him, but you really, really want to. 

Asriel stops walking, as though he can somehow hear your thoughts. His grip around you tightens, protective and possessive. 

"I know you think I'm weak," he says, and his voice is very, very gentle. You can almost hear him smiling.  "But I can _do_ this. I won't back out, I promise. Just trust me."

This time, you really _do_ almost laugh. 

But you don't. Instead, you just say, "Thank you." 

You once again lean into him, and you let your eyes fall shut. 

 

**III.**

The third time Asriel carries you, you are dead.

You cannot feel his arms around you. You cannot feel his love. You can only feel your corpse and his despair. 

You do not like to think about that time.

 

**IV.**

You can feel everyone's hearts beating as one. You can feel the pulse of life in the Underground synchronizing with the memory of your locket. You can feel the hopes and dreams of every soul you've ever known blending into one glorious symphony of light and magic and  _want,_ conducted by a single human child. 

You are the demon in limbo, the one who was not meant to be, but you can hear them calling your name, the name you chose yourself, the true name, and Asriel's hands are reaching out to you from a place you cannot see, and you could _never_ leave Asriel waiting, not when he's calling out your name so frantically, not when he's reaching out to you with so much desperation, not when you want to see him again so very, very badly. 

And so you take his hands - soft and warm and fitting perfectly in yours - and together, you pull yourselves from limbo. 

You come back to life with a great, shuddering gasp, lying in a patch of golden flowers. 

You flinch as the light hits your eyes. Everything feels raw and sensitive and _new -_ which, you suppose, it is. With a groan, you pull yourself upright, and that is when you see Asriel, sitting on his knees before you and marveling at his great big furry paws. 

Hysterical laughter bubbles up inside of you. The last time you'd seen him, he'd been a _flower,_ of all things, but now he's soft and squishy-looking and everything about him is just as you remember. For a moment you cannot speak; you can only stare, drinking in the sight of him. 

Then, slowly, he lifts his head to look at you. 

"They did it," Asriel whispers, eyes enormous. "It...it  _worked!_ I didn't think...Chara, I can't _believe!_ " 

And then he throws himself at you, pulling you into his arms and crushing you against his chest. You let him squeeze the air from your lungs, too busy squeezing back to even notice. You need to remember how this feels, you think. You never want to forget, ever, ever again. 

When Asriel finally pulls away, he cups your face in his hands, staring at you in wonder. "You're _here,_ " he chokes. "You're _here!_  Chara, it's been so _long_ \- "

"Don't tell _me_ how long it's been," you say with a laugh, placing your hands over his own for the first time in what may have been centuries. He is warm and solid to the touch, and he is  _real,_ and  _you_ are real, and when you see Frisk again you just might kiss them out of gratitude.

"I love you," Asriel blubbers, and of _course_ he's crying right now. But you don't mind, you love it, you love getting to see him cry again, and as he sobs, you kiss away his tears. "I love you so much, Chara - I'm sorry I messed up, I'm sorry for what I did - "

"I forgive you," you say, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. "I _forgive_ you! None of that even matters, anyway. We can talk about it later." 

He nods, and he is weeping, and you are weeping too, and you think you might be happy kneeling there forever in that patch of golden flowers. 

But then he disentangles himself from you, springing to his feet. 

"We have to _go!_ " Asriel shouts, eyes shining like stars. "The barrier is broken, everyone is waiting, we have to _go!_ " 

He takes you by the wrist and pulls you upright. For a moment, you are standing, but then your legs begin to tremble. Before you can take so much as one step forward, you are pitching over. He manages to catch you before you fall, but then you're gasping in his arms, trying to catch your breath. 

"Are you okay?" Asriel asks, looking alarmed. 

"What the _fuck,_ " you finally manage to wheeze. "I think Frisk messed up somewhere." 

"What's wrong?"

You grit your teeth. "I feel _weak._ " 

Asriel bites his lip. "It might be the magic," he says at last, looking uncertain. "Since monster bodies are made of magic, it's actually not that hard to will one back into existence again. You just need to have enough power gathered. But yours would be a little more complicated, I think." 

"What the _fuck,_ " you say again. 

It made a stupid, awful kind of sense. A body made of hopes and dreams would probably be just as strong as the hopes and dreams of the ones wishing for it. Meanwhile, a body made of blood and muscle would probably need a little time for the blood to start pumping and the muscles to get strong again. 

What did having a poorly imagined body even _mean_ , though? No stamina, clearly. Probably a garbage immune system, too. You're going to need a thousand vaccinations, you realize with a shudder; what a rip-off. 

Then again...maybe this is a good thing. You'd always hated your body. If you really  _are_ like a newborn - a freakish, fully-grown newborn - then maybe this can be your chance to finally start over. Even if it _is_  with a weak and shitty replacement. 

"Do you want me to carry you?" Asriel asks.

You shake your head. "I'm okay," you say. "I want to do this myself." 

Asriel doesn't answer right away, but when he does, he sounds nervous.

"I don't think you _can,_ " he says. "Are you...sure?" 

You're not, actually. But this is the first time you've had your own two feet again in ages, and _you_ want to be the one to step outside on them. You're alive again; you _want_ to be alive again, even if it's hard, even if it hurts, and you don't want to waste a single moment. 

But you also want to be with Asriel.

He watches you with fear in his eyes, as though afraid you might not need him after all.

As though you'd ever leave without him. 

"Help me," you say. "We'll go together." 

And Asriel nods, looking relieved.

"Take my shoulder," he says, and he shifts his hold on you, letting you slip your arm around him. He stands and you stand with him, you lean and he leans back, and when he starts to walk, you begin to walk as well. 

Your steps are slow and uncertain, but he matches your pace, and together, you leave the Underground for good. 

When you finally step outside, you do so on your own two feet, Asriel at your side. When the sun hits your face, you are smiling. 

 

**V.**

_Carry me,_ Frisk signs. 

You snort. "You can walk."

 _My feet hurt,_ they say with a plaintive expression. It's the closest you have ever seen a person get to perfectly silent whining.

You roll your eyes, but Asriel, pushover that he is, is already crouching in the middle of the sidewalk. Frisk gives a happy little flap and scrambles up onto his back.

"You're such a baby," you say, but you do so with affection. Even if Frisk can be a little childish sometimes, you don't mind. You never have. It's nice to have a kid around who can laugh and play and smile so easily, and you're not about to begrudge them that. 

Frisk sticks their tongue out at you and you stick your tongue out back, the way you always do. The fact that you have an _always_ as mundane as this makes you feel a little giddy. 

"Ready?" Asriel asks, and Frisk gives him an affirmative pat on the head, prompting him to rise. 

The three of you are walking home from school together. You don't go to school yourself, but today had been a pretty good day for you, and so you'd gone to meet them. You'd been hoping to spend some extra time with your best friend and your whatever-the-hell-Asriel-is, but for some inexplicable reason, you hadn't counted on the two of them being such _dorks._ And right in public, too. 

They walk like that for another block or so, Frisk humming in a bright, tuneless sort of way as they bounce on Asriel's shoulders.

You watch them, frowning. 

"Jealous?" Asriel asks with a grin.

"No," you snap.

Frisk snickers, then pats him twice on the head. 

"Done already?" he asks, sounding surprised.

They give another pat.

"All right then."

Asriel crouches down once more, letting Frisk slide off. They land with their arms stretched upwards, posing for no one. They turn to you, pointing from you to Asriel and back again. 

"I don't need a piggyback ride," you say as firmly as you can.

Frisk pouts. Asriel pouts as well. "Are you _sure?_ " he asks. "Frisk got one - it's only fair, isn't it?" 

You shove your hands into your pockets, trying to resist the urge to go ahead and climb on top of him. "I don't _want_  a piggyback ride." 

"What if I wanted to give you one?" 

There's something kind of flirty about the way he says that, even if you can't quite pin it down. You feel your cheeks grow warm and hope you aren't blushing.

You open your mouth, then snap it shut again. Frisk giggles. 

If he's asking...if he's _offering_...

"Fine," you say. "But only for a little while." 

Asriel's face lights up and he gestures to his back. You hesitate a moment, then climb onto his shoulders.

He stands, and though you wobble briefly, when he straightens, you are stable. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his curls and trying to resist the urge to smell his hair. You already know what it will smell like; sunshine and shampoo, you'd say if asked, but even _you_ would call yourself a dork if you ever dared to voice that thought aloud.

He feels warm under you. He feels _real._ You will never, ever get over that.

"Are you comfortable?" Asriel asks, hooking his arms around your legs to keep you steady. 

"I guess so," you say, voice muffled by his hair.

He chuckles, and he begins to walk. 

As he walks, you wonder.

How lucky are you, really? How lucky are you to have all this, when you'd once thought you'd never have anything again? But you have friends now, and a family, and a _home,_ and...

You place the softest kiss you can on Asriel's chin. Frisk watches from the sidewalk, beaming. Suddenly shy, you turn away from him when he tries to return the favour, ignoring his protests as you do. Frisk laughs, and it's very, very hard for you to resist laughing back.

It's all too much. It's all too perfect. You don't deserve this.

But Asriel's warmth against your skin is proof that he is real, and you already know that he'll remind you of that fact as often as you need, 

You press your face against his neck and mouth the words  _I love you._

"I love you too," Asriel replies.

You wrap your arms around him even tighter. 

You could walk right now, if you wanted to. But sometimes you don't, and when you don't, Asriel will be there. And when you do, he will put you down, and you will walk beside him, right where you belong. 

As long as you both know that, then maybe being carried isn't all that bad. Even if it _is_ a little embarrassing. 

Hell. Maybe someday, _you'll_ be the one to carry _him._  

For now, though, this is fine. 

Riding on your prince's shoulders, you are carried off into the sunset, Frisk skipping there beside you, and despite everything that's happened and everything that _will_ happen, you think this just might be a happy ending. 

**Author's Note:**

> friendly reminder that my twitter is [@lumalees](https://twitter.com/lumalees)


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